The sages of the Midrash felt that way about Pharaoh letting the Israelites go. It wasn't just a political decision; it was a colossal blunder, a spiritual miscalculation of epic proportions.
Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, offers a powerful analogy to illustrate this. Imagine a man who stumbles upon a bundle, not knowing what it contains. He meets someone on the road and offers it away almost carelessly: "Here, take this bundle. I don't need it." The other man, surprised, accepts.
What happens next? This new owner arrives in the city and discovers the bundle is full of pearls! He carefully sorts them by size and puts them on display. A buyer approaches, asking the price. "This small pearl? A million!" he says. "The large one? Ten million! And the medium one? Eight million!"
Then, the original owner enters the city. He sees the pearls displayed, their worth realized, their beauty undeniable. He tears his clothes in anguish. "All this wealth," he cries, "was in my possession, and I gave it away for nothing! Woe is me!" Now, where does Pharaoh fit into this story? The Midrash explains: Pharaoh is the man who carelessly gave away the bundle. The bundle of pearls? That's Israel. As it says in the Song of Songs (1:13), “A bundle of myrrh my beloved is to me.” Myrrh, a precious fragrance – a fitting metaphor for the preciousness of the Israelites.
At first, Pharaoh was eager to be rid of them. "Arise and leave!" he shouts, according to Exodus 12:31. But then Moses begins to count the people: "Six hundred thousand, besides the tribe of Levi, whom he did not count." Suddenly, Pharaoh sees the true value of what he's lost – a nation, a workforce, a people chosen by God. According to the Midrash, that’s when he begins screaming “woe.” It’s right there in the text: “It was [vayhi] when Pharaoh let [the people] go." The word vayhi hints at the "woe" (vai) he felt.
It's a fascinating interpretation, isn't it? Pharaoh's regret wasn't just about losing free labor. It was about failing to recognize the inherent worth of the Israelites, their spiritual significance, their divine potential. He saw them as a burden, not as a blessing.
This Midrash in Shemot Rabbah challenges us to consider what "bundles of pearls" we might be overlooking in our own lives. What people, what relationships, what opportunities are we dismissing without truly understanding their value? Perhaps, like Pharaoh, we need to open our eyes and recognize the preciousness that surrounds us, before it’s too late.